The Third Day
by DreamTailor
Summary: WARNING: Contains mild spoilers to the game. Ezio uncovers a deadly conspiracy. He has three days to stop the conspirators, prevent a full blown civil war and save a life. Will he make it on time? Short Story.
1. Day 1

Warning: Contains Mild Spoilers about the Pazzi Conspiracy and the origins of Ezio's Scar.

**The Third Day.**

_Day One_.

It was a dark night in the Tuscan countryside. A small stone building sat in the middle of a clearing, the woods and thick brush muffled the barely audible sound coming from within. A few horses stood quietly in front, swishing their tails. A dim light twinkled from it's one small window.

"So our targets are marked then?"

"Yes, Lorenzo and Giuliano should be at the Medici estate in Florence. Tell your nephew to invite them to the Duomo for High Mass. On that day you will go to Palazzo Vecchio and eliminate Petrucci, taking your seat as Signoria. Giovan."

"Yes?"

"You will wait outside the city with your men, when the bells begin to ring, you will make your move." A low muffled grunt followed.

"Milord, a letter arrived this morning, the Pope has given us his blessing," A nervous voice chipped in.

"Perfect." The candles flickered as figures moved about the small room.

Ezio crouched quietly in the dark window of the dimly lit room. He had been informed earlier that day that a suspicious meeting would be taking place in the depth of the Tuscany forest, and volunteered to check it out. Six men stood round a wooden table covered with letters and dark wax stains from the low burning candles. The men had been talking for hours, and Ezio's knee's were aching, but he dare not move. He strained his eyes to identify the shadowed figures. One man, leaning against the back wall, stepped forward into the light. He began to speak.

"Then, in three days, the 26th of this month, we will condemn their souls, and the Medici's will fall to the Pazzi's reign."

Ezio's eyes widened, recognizing the man immediately. It was Viere de' Pazzi, a dark haired, broad shoulder man that was about his age. Ezio's gloved fingers rose to his lips and he gingerly touched his scar, stretched and white from age. It was Viere who had given him the scar nearly a decade ago.

Viere flashed his characteristic toothy, lopsided grin. Ezio clenched his fist as he saw two other figures step beside Viere, Jacopo and Francesco de' Pazzi.

"Tomorrow we shall set off to Florence." Viere's nasally voice cut the silence. The men around the table stirred a little, eager to be free from the dank confines of the building. "The rest may retire for the night." He dismissed them.

Ezio watched as the six men began to leave the small room. His heart pounded and his head was swimming with the news he had just heard. The Pazzi family was trying to overthrow the Medici's, and Giuliano and Lorenzo's lives were in danger. He had to warn them.

Ezio slowly got to his feet, praying that his joints wouldn't crack from the position he was in. Soundlessly he stepped back out of the window and on to the dewy, night grass. With his back against the wall, he edged closer to the front in order to get a better view of the six conspirators. Names would be important.

The three Pazzi members stepped out of the thick wooden doorway first. Viere still had his ugly grin smeared across his face and Jacopo followed in his shadow. Francesco, the jittery, young blonde, walked awkwardly, jumping at every small sound of the night.

Next came another familiar face, Archbishop Salviata. He wore his priest robes, which Ezio found strange for the setting. He had a smug look settled on his face, his nose slightly upturned. He obviously deemed himself higher than the others. Behind him a smaller, black-haired man followed. Ezio immediately identified him as the man called Giovan. He was a thin man. His face was sullen, his wide, dark eyes were lined and he looked like he hadn't sleep for days. As he walked, he looked warily from side to side, as if he were looking for something.

Ezio waited, but no one followed Giovan. He was sure that there were six men at the table, but only five men had left. He looked to the doorway, but no shadow lingered to bid the men farewell._ It wouldn't hurt to check inside the building_... Ezio thought, if the last man had stayed behind, perhaps he could get some useful information out of him. He was about to turn when he heard a soft thud behind him.

A hand clasped Ezio's shoulder and spun him around roughly. Ezio froze as he looked upon the sixth conspirator. He was a tall, badly scarred man with weathered skin and a scraggly beard. One of his eyes, nestled deep into his high cheekbones, was clouded over with a cataract. Ezio felt small in his presence and shrunk backwards. In the moonlight, he was a truly terrifying creature. Before Ezio could react the man grabbed his collar and threw him to the ground, into the sight of the conspirators.

"Found our rat," the man's gravelly voice jeered.

The men turned and began to form a circle around Ezio, keeping their distance. Viere stood with his back towards Ezio, tilting his head as if he was contemplating whether to face the assassin or not. After a few moments, it seemed he had made up his mind.

Viere turned slowly on his heel. His smile never faded as steely blue eyes swept over the downed, hooded man, stopping at his lips. "I remember that scar." Viere reminisced.

"Ezio Auditore, I should've known." He chuckled to himself. Ezio struggled to get up on his elbows. He had landed hard on his back and was breathless from the blow. "So glad you could make it." Viere cooed.

"Bastard," Ezio spat, still trying to catch his breath. Viere had known he was there the whole time.

"Manners, Ezio," Viere scorned, walking slowly toward him. "Seeing as you arrived a little earlier than expected, I suppose I won't have to brief you on the plan." He reached inside a pocket and pulled out a short, silver blade. Twiddling it in his fingers, inspecting it like it was a gem for pricing, he continued, "However, since you play no major role in this production, we'll have to... cut you out of the scene."

At his words, the five other conspirators advanced, drawing weapons if they had them.

Ezio rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his knees. His eyes darted left and right, taking in the surrounding area and any possible escape routes. Though he could easily take out Viere on his own, the five other conspirators were armed and would jump on him the second he made a move. Ezio backed up slowly, half curled into a defensive stance. The situation didn't look good.

Giovan attacked first, lunging forward with his short sword. Ezio raised his gauntlet to block the blade, for he had no time to reach for his own. He winced as the cold metal dug into his skin, but the gauntlet had absorbed most of the impact. Seeing an opening, he delivered a hard kick into Giovan's ribs, sending him sprawling backwards.

Giovan fell hard, but recovered quickly, gasping and clutching his side as he readied for another attack. Archbishop Salviata moved forward next, attempt to grab and restrain Ezio. Ducking underneath his outstretched arm, Ezio locked the holy man's elbow and pushed down on the joint. The Archbishop yelped in pain, and moved away from the pressure; he was in Ezio's control. To the side, Ezio noticed Francesco, who was quivering from head to toe and looked like he was about to wet himself. He smirked wickedly as he spun Salviata and released his hold, sending him flying into the nervous Pazzi. The two knocked heads and fell to the ground.

Ezio took this chance to escape. He bolted from the centre of the conspirators and leapt over the two men cupping their bleeding nostrils. He dashed for the tree-line and plunged into the thick vegetation, eager to get as far away as possible.

"Silvano," Viere called, watching the white hood disappear into the depths of the forest. The weathered man stepped forward, his good eye fixed on Viere's face.

"Find him, and bring him back to me. Alive."

Silvano said nothing as he walked toward his horse, a sturdy chestnut mare. He pulled himself into the saddle and trotted towards the forest edge. He scanned the dark woods and a small smile twisted his cracked lips. He was a master tracker, and no man had ever escaped his eye.

_________________________________________________________________

Ezio pushed past the branches and leaves, twigs scratched his skin and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. It was hard to see in the dark, and he found himself constantly tripping over exposed roots and broken branches. He kept running even though he heard no one following him. The vegetation began to thin and he soon found himself on a narrow path illuminated by the silver moonlight. He doubled over, gasping for air. The night was still around him, there was no breeze, and above him the sky was clear.

After he had regained his breath he walked the path, trying to figure out where he was. In the distance, he could hear water trickling. Ezio turned another bend and found a small stream that crossed the path. Relieved, he crouched by the water and began to drink.

_________________________________________________________________

Silvano slowed his horse to a walk as he entered onto a branching pathway. He scanned the dirt road and the bushes for any sign that his prey had passed through. A few metres ahead, he spotted an indent in the soft earth. He dismounted and crouched low to the ground, analysing the area. The print was light, but noticeable. He looked to the side of the path where the print had come from. Green leaves, freshly fallen, lay on the path, and a few broken twigs hung loosely from their branches. This is where his prey had exited the woods.

He turned his attention back to the print. He studied the depth and size of the print and the grooves left by the shoe. Moving a few metres ahead, he found another distinguished print. Silvano resaddled, clicking his tongue and sending the mare in to a slow walk.

___________________________________________________________________

Ezio splashed some water over his face. It was a hot spring night, and he felt uncomfortably warm. He could feel the under layers of his garb sticking to his skin. He stared at his reflection, cool beads of water dripped down his cheeks. He had to keep moving though. Getting to his feet Ezio felt the exhaustion setting in, his eyes felt heavy and scratchy. Looking up, he saw that the sky was beginning to lighten ever so slightly. It would be morning in a few hours. He began to move forward.

In the distance he heard a sound, but it was hard to distinguish from the gurgle of the stream. A slow, steady, clop. As he listened, the sound got a little louder.

His fatigue instantly vanished as he placed a name to the sound. A horse was coming.

Ducking into the trees once more, he hind himself amid the tangled roots of an ancient sycamore maple. From his position he could see the pathway clearly. He waited until the horse come into view.

The horse walked slowly, it's hooves dragging on the ground slightly. Perched on top was a man, his head was turned in the opposite direction, looking into the bushes. Slowly, the man turned his head to the front. In the moonlight, his cataract shone like a cat's eye.

Ezio's heart beat fast and he covered his mouth to muffle his breathing. Of all the conspirators, that man was the last one he wanted to be followed by.

The man stopped at the stream, dismounting his horse. Ezio watched him as he crouched on the bank and examined the ground. He was looking for his foot prints, Ezio realised. The man traced his finger along the ground before standing up. He stepped into the stream, the water barely reaching his ankles. He crossed and crouched down at the other side, again scanning the dirt for prints.

After a moment, the man crossed the stream once more, having not found anything. He moved up the side of the stream, closer to where Ezio was hiding. Once more the man crouched down. He was examining the wet patches of earth were Ezio had drank earlier.

The assassin may as well have been caught right there and then. The wet earth was a sign that the hooded man was still there, and very close by. Silvano had found no tracks leading away from the water on the other side. He grinned to himself momentarily. The assassins was either hiding, or about to strike from behind.

Silvano crouched on the ground, ready for the assassin to make his move. He listened carefully, pretending to examine the footprints he had left behind. Surely enough, he could hear the tiniest of movement in the brush behind him. The assassins was good. If he had not left tracks, Silvano would've been totally unaware of his presence.

Unfortunately for Ezio, he was very aware.

Ezio was right behind the man now, watching him intently as he looked over the banks of the water. If he could get this one conspirator out of the way, it would be one less he'd have to deal with once he got back to Florence. He had to make his move now.

Positioning his wrist, he jumped from the bushes, the familiar sound of metal sliding from its holster was the only sound that betrayed his presence. The man would never see it coming.

Just as he was about to sink the blade into his foes neck, the man turned and caught his wrist, twisting sharply. Ezio gasped in pain as the man's fist slammed into his abdomen and he was swatted out of the air like a fly. He felt the cool water soak into his clothes as he landed partly in the stream. Ezio scrambled to his feet, ready to attack again.

The man quickly reached into his saddlebag, pulling out a wooden crossbow. Ezio had trained to fight against enemies with projectile weapons. The key was to attack before they could load the arrow. He shot forward hidden blade aimed for the man's chest.

However he stopped dead in his tracks as he felt the wind rush past him. Behind him an arrow lodged into a tree, splinters of wood sent flying by the impact. It took less than two seconds for the man to have the next arrow ready and aimed. Ezio dropped to the ground as the arrow flew past. It was the fastest he had seen anyone reload a crossbow.

By the time Ezio had gotten to his feet, the man was ready to release another deadly bolt. Ezio made a break for the trees, hoping that the woods would provide some cover. Before he could reach the forest, the man loosed his arrow. Ezio felt a sharp pain as the arrow embedded itself through his calf. Unable to support his body he fell to one knee. His hand reached to the wound, trying to stem the warm blood. He felt his body grow hot as pain seared up his leg.

Within seconds he felt the man's presence overtop of him. A calloused hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him upward. Ezio felt his feet leave the ground as he was dangled in the air like a rag doll. He couldn't breathe. His vision began to blur and his lungs screamed for air. Darkness began to collect in the corner of his eyes as he looked down upon his captor. The man's cracked lips were twisted into a smile, and his blue, clouded eye was the last thing Ezio saw before the darkness finally overcame him.

End of Day 1.


	2. Day 2

**Day Two**

The light almost blinded Ezio as he slowly cracked open his eyes. His vision blurred and he blinked a few times to clear away the haze. As his retinas cleared, the white light divided itself into 4 short bars. Ezio was looking up at a small, semi-circular window, perched high on the grey stone wall. Outside he could hear the sound of cartwheels rolling over gravel and the rhythmic crunch of boots. There was a low murmur and a buzz of activity; shadows cut the light as they moved past the tiny vent. Ezio lay on the floor underneath the window; the sunlight shining patterns across his angled face.

Ezio coughed as he inhaled, his throat felt raw and sore. The musky air of the room made it hard to regain his breath. As he became fully conscious, he moved his body slowly. His muscles ached and his joints were stiff from his sleep on the hard rock floor, and he wasn't overly surprised when he felt a strong resistance against the movement of his wrists. His legs, however, had been left unbound.

Using the wall as support, he managed to push himself into a seated position, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg. His hood had fallen from his head and lay about his shoulders. Using this opportunity, he shifted his wounded leg out from underneath him to inspect the damage. Blood seeped through the pungent dirty bandages knotted loosely around his calf. Ezio ignored the vile handiwork though, for now it was doing its job, keeping away infection, and being no healer, he doubted he could have done a better job.

Straightening his back Ezio looked around the room. It was uncomfortably small with bland cement walls. The room was empty except for a small wooden bench in one corner, and a bucket in the other. _No explanation needed there_, Ezio grimaced. In front of him, opposite the small window, was a heavy wooden door. Steel bolts jutted out of the thick, dark wood in square patterns. Near the top of the door there was a small slat that looked like it could only be opened from the other side.

Ezio layed his head back against the wall, and his faced scrunched in thought. Where was he? what day was it? How long had he been here, and had he missed Easter Sunday? For all he knew, the Pazzi's had already acquired complete control over Florence. He cursed under his breath for underestimating his opponent. The man's clouded eye hung subconsciously in the back of his mind. If he had only been more aware, he could've warned the Medici brothers earlier... Ezio hoped to God that he still could.

Though he had never known the Medici's personally, his father had strong ties with them. The Medici's had become the Auditores' strongest allies and a social connection. However, since his father and brothers had been murdered, his family had lost touch with them. They had sent condolences and support after the betrayal, but it seemed now that the two families never had ties to each other. Ezio did not question his motives though. He needed the Medici's alliance more than ever, and he would rather die than see Florence ruled under the Pazzi's misguided hand.

The only thing standing between him and his goal was a heavy, locked door. Ezio pulled at his iron shackles with no avail. The only feat he had accomplished was digging the cold metal deeper into his raw wrists. Ezio instinctively pulled the ring trigger of his hidden blade, only to realise that they were not strapped to his forearms. Fidgeting, he felt for his other weapons. The familiar weight of his sword was not present at his hip, the knife he kept in his boot had also been removed, and his captors had even found the small dagger he kept tucked inside his vest and beneath the sash. Whoever had searched him did a damn good job.

He looked around the room once more. The window might have been an escape if he was still five years old, but it was so minuscule that he doubted his head could get through. Aside from the rat holes, the only other exit to the cell was the thickset oak door. He could try a break out if someone opened the door; if someone ever opened the door. Even though Ezio was disadvantaged, he had some chances of escape if everything went well.

Huffing, Ezio leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He needed to remain calm and work out a plan. Inhaling he brushed aside all his troubling thoughts, focussing on his breathing and the distant sound of dripping water. It wasn't long before he lost perception of time and space.

Some time later, Ezio was jarred out of his thoughts when a loud clang ripped through the halls outside of his door. A wave of adrenaline rushed through his veins at the sudden ruckus. It sounded like things were being thrown around, and an angry, muffled voice echoed down the corridors. Whoever was outside was throwing a tantrum. The snappy footfalls came closer to his door, and the raging murmur became painfully audible, forming into that all too familiar nasally voice. He didn't even need to guess who the person was before the door to the room slammed open, nearly breaking it off its' hinges.

Viere de' Pazzi stormed into the room, his face was red and eyes were bulging. Behind him followed a small servant boy, cowering in fear behind his aggravated master. A heavily armoured guard stationed himself in the doorframe. Viere's eyes settled on Ezio and he seethed with anger.

"Where is he?!" Viere spat, moving closer.

"Who?" Ezio replied coldly, having no idea what was going on.

"Don't lie to me, filth! You've told him to go somewhere, and you know where he is, I can see it written on your face!" He shouted, spittle dotting his chin. Ezio wished he could pull his hood back over his eyes. He had grown accustomed to the veil, and relied on it to hide his identity and emotions. Without it now, he felt uncomfortable and exposed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about..."

"Don't remember? Then let me help you!" Viere stood over Ezio, his curled fist raised high into the air. A wicked smirk twisted his face. He brought down his fist full force into Ezio's jaw. Ezio's head smacked against the wall, sparks exploding before his eyes. He felt himself losing consciousness. Viere wrapped his hand around Ezio's collar, bringing him back into a seated position and stabilizing his lolling head.

"I ask again assassin, where is he!?" Before Ezio could form words he was struck again, barely aware of his lip splitting open.

"I can do this all night," Viere hissed in his ear, pulling out a dagger from his belt. His heavy breaths cooled the sweat on his neck. "I have patience," Ezio scoffed, "and it's only a matter of time before I make you talk." He positioned the blade and pressed it to Ezio's abdomen, ready to plunge it in if he failed to get an answer. He waited a moment.

"Fine," he said after receiving no reply. Viere applied pressure to the dagger...

"You're wasting your time, Pazzi," a cool, gravelly voice called from the doorway. Viere turned towards the speaker, his knife still pressed against Ezio, threatening to break the skin.

Ezio struggled to see past Viere's obnoxious head, silently thanking whoever interrupted them.

"And why is that, Silvano?" He asked, retracting the knife and standing slowly. Walking forward, he gave Ezio a clear vista of the man he called Silvano.

Looming in the doorway, he stood tall, his arms folded across his great chest. The guard who was standing there earlier was nowhere to be seen. As Ezio beheld his face, he felt dread well up inside his chest.

The man's weathered face was set in a frown, the creases around his brow were like wrinkles in leather. His short, bristling beard was unkempt and spread across the lower half of his jaw. And finally, Ezio's eyes met with his, the familiar clouded, blue eye locking him in his gaze. He was memorised and terrified at the same time, it seemed like he couldn't look away, like he couldn't _breathe_. It was the same blue eye that hunted him down in the deepest parts of the dark. His chest felt like it was being squeezed tightly

Silvano broke eye contact first, and Ezio hastily averted his eyes, free from his control, and found himself gasping. The eye contact had only been a moment, but it felt like he had been trapped for minutes.

Silvano's gaze returned to Viere.

"I took him not far from the Tuscan-Florence border. He had evaded me for about three hours before I caught up. There is no possible way he could've sent a message in that time. That, and he never left the cover of the trees. I'll say it again, you're wasting time."

Viere's eyes flashed, taken back by Silvano's tasteless address.

"However," Silvano continued, "I have news that may put your mind at ease. We've found his location."

The anger faded from Viere's face. "Let us talk elsewhere then." He said in a calmer tone, motioning towards the door. But before leaving, he turned back to Ezio and delivered an unexpect kick to his injured leg. Ezio doubled over, hissing in pain. His arm jerked at the restraints, aching to cover the wound. He felt hot, fresh blood starting to flow once more.

"I'll be back for you later." Viere muttered under his breath as he turned on his heel and headed towards the door. It slammed shut, sending small vibrations through the air. Ezio listened as the voices faded away from the door.

_Send a letter to Riario and bring... urgent... Florence..._

Soon enough, the steady drip of water was all that occupied his mind again. The searing pain in his leg subsided into a dull, aching throb. Ezio's glassy eyes remaining fixed to the patch of floor laying between his knees. He didn't know how long he remained in that half curled position, he just stared at the floor in a stupor.

Ezio only barely registered the sound of a light laugh echoing through the hall. The door opened once more, this time quietly, more subtle, as a pair entered the room. He didn't raise his head, nor even acknowledge the presence of the two men. It was only when he heard a familiar voice that he raised his head an inch or so.

Standing with their backs to him, two men examined the door intently. One dressed in a guards uniform was standing over the other, who squatted near the floor, running his fingertips over the lock. All he could see of the second person was the red hat and chocolate hair, the cape he was wearing obscured his body as he crouched.

The two exchanged quick words and stood, exiting the cell. As the second man left, he turned to cast a glance at Ezio. Wide, vivid blue eyes brushed over his, and a thin stubble dressed his jaw. The red beret sat skewed to one side on the top of his head. Just as quickly as he had revealed himself though, the man turned his head back to the front and followed the guard. Ezio was in shock.

_Leonardo?_

He wanted to call the name, but he could not form the words fast enough. The oak door shut quietly with a faint click as keys turned in the lock.

Ezio stared at the door. He was sure that was Leonardo...It could have been no other. But as he reassured himself of his friends presence, the weight of reality crashed down on him. Leo could not possibly have been there. The dull throb in his head reminded him that he hit his head against the wall earlier. His brain was playing tricks on him, the man had probably only resembled Leonardo. If it had really been his best friend, Leo would have said... or done something other than momentarily gawk at Ezio. No, that was not Leonardo. He felt betrayed.

A small mouse captured his attention as it scuttled out of a hole in the wall to his left. It was no longer than Ezio's pinky finger, probably not even a yearling. Seated on its hind legs, it licked its paws before grooming its face and large pink ears, tussling its short fur than pushing it back into place . After it's bath, the mouse crawled closer, sniffing at all the cracks in the floor, its' long white whiskers bouncing as its' nose twitched. It came closer, sniffing at Ezio's boot. The mouse placed its paws on the worn leather, pulling itself higher to sniff for crumbs in the upper crevices of his sole.

Now, in those days, it would have be a better judgment to squish the little disease carrying vermin flat before it got too acquainted with you. But Ezio let it go on with it's business, trying not to move and disturb the small mouse.

Abandoning its search of the boot, the mouse moved away to look elsewhere.

"Sorry,_ poco signore_, but I have nothing to eat either." As soon as the words escaped his mouth, Ezio felt embarrassed. He was talking to a mouse. _I must've have really hit my head hard..._

He continued to watch the small creature as it walked somewhat awkwardly around the room. He probably should have squished it.

Suddenly the mouse became alert. Standing on its hind legs and tucking its paws into its chest, It sniffed the air frantically. The mouse sensed something Ezio could not. As quickly as its stubby legs could carry it, the mouse fled into the nearest hole.

Soon enough, Ezio heard a muffled commotion outside. A low groan broke the silence followed by a thump that sounded like a body falling to the floor.

There was the sound of keys hastily trying to unlock the door.

Then it stopped.

And started again.

Finally the faint click announced the persons success and the door swung open.

Surely enough, Ezio was not imagining it this time. Leonardo stood at the door, a ring of keys in one hand and what looked like a wooden doorjamb in the other. He gingerly stepped over the body of a guard.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..." he repeated to the unconscious lump on the floor, tip toeing around the guards splayed limbs. Ezio didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry out with relief.

After overcoming the obstacle, Leonardo laid eyes on Ezio, his goofy lopsided grin stretched across his cheeks. Absent mindedly discarding the doorjamb into the corner, he practically skipped over to Ezio and wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders.

"Hi!"

"Leonardo...what on earth...?"

"No time to talk, we gotta get you out of here." Leo cut him off, pushing Ezio forward to get a better view of his restrains. He began fiddling with the keys, trying several on the small keyhole.

"Why are you here?" Ezio questioned.

"The prison wants new locks for the cells, apparently people have been escaping due to a flaw in the design. They hired me to devise a new lock. Anyway, I should be asking you the same thing." He replied, trying another key.

"It's a long story, I'll tell you when we get somewhere safer. But Leo tell me, where am I, and what is the date, it's very important."

Leo struggled with another key. "Lean forward a bit more. As for your question, today is the 25th of April, and your are in my hometown of Vinci... got it!" The weight of the restraints finally left Ezio's arms, the cool air refreshing his raw skin. He rubbed his wrists, trying to restore the circulation.

Wasting no time, he pushed himself to his feet, pulling his hood back over his head. Wrapping his fingers securely around Leonardo's thin wrists, he set off in a full sprint, ignoring Leo's shriek of surprise. Ezio ran out the open door and leaped over the downed guard. He felt Leo's wrists tug against his fingers as he tripped over the man.

"Sorry!" He called once more, and kept running, trying to keep pace.

"Quick Leo, where's the armoury?" Ezio asked, watching as branching corridors flew past.

"Uh...Uh... LEFT!"

Ezio stopped suddenly and turned sharply into the corridor to his left. Leonardo skidded behind him, barely regaining his balance before he was pulled forward violently. His hand flew to his hat, securing it so it wouldn't fall off.

"That door, at the end of the corridor is the armoury," Leo gasped, pointing to a door situated at the very end of the hall. A small metal plague engraved with a shield was nailed to the front. Ezio slowed to a stop and tried the handle. Locked.

"Quick, give me the keys." Leo tossed him the ring of dozens of silver keys. Ezio caught them and flipped through the keys. He didn't have time to go through them all. It was only a matter of time before someone discovered the guard. Halfway through the ring he came to a key engraved with the same shield and tried the lock. It opened and he pushed forward. The door squealed on its rusty hinges as it swung open. Quickly he searched the room for his weapons. As he looked he asked Leonardo,

"Do you have a place here? Somewhere we can hide?"

"Yeah, a few kilometres south of here, I still own a studio from when I was younger. It hasn't been used in ages though."

"It's good enough for now," He said, finding his hidden blades tucked away in a cupboard. He laced them to his forearms as quickly as he could. He had also succeed in regaining one of his knives, but the other was lost under the pile of rusty iron.

He pulled a knife halfway out of its' leather sheath and inspected it. Satisfied, he re-sheathed it and tossed it to Leonardo who fumbled with it, nearly dropping the sharp instrument.

"You might need this." Ezio said casually, searching for his sword. Leo gaped at the dagger, holding it away from him as if it was an infected rat carcass.

"Ezio, I'm a pacifist, there's no way I'm going to run around with _this _in my hands."

"Think of it as protection, its not harmful if you don't use it," Ezio called from the room. He hoped Leo would be co-operative this time.

A sharp gleam caught the corner of his eye and he turned. His sword stood out from the rest of the miserable looking blades. Its polished, encrusted handle shone in the dim light, and its craftsmanship was far more advanced than the others. He buckled it to his hip, happy to have sword at his side once more.

He left the room and closed the door, turning back to Leonardo. The dagger was pushed into his belt. Judging by the way his arms were crossed and his bottom lip jutted out, Ezio could tell he wasn't happy about the fact that it was there. Yet he couldn't help cracking a smile at his childish behaviour.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

"Right." They both started jogging back up the hallway. As they reached the main corridor, they flattened themselves against the wall. Ezio peered around the corner, making sure no one was coming.

"All right, it's clear," Ezio whispered, "which way is the exit?"

"It's the same way we were going, at the third branch we turn right, then at the next exit we take another right. That should lead us outside."

The two set of at a steady pace, remaining as silent as possible. As the reached their turn off, Ezio once again checked the corridors for any guards. There were none. Silently he slipped around the bend and beheld a bright light shining from the end of the next hallway to his right. It was the exit. Slowly he approached the hall. Voices echoed from around the bend. He motioned Leo forward with his gloved hand and signed for him to take out the closest guard. Leo gave him a look of dismay. Smirking, Ezio counted down from three on his fingers. At one they sprung from their hiding place. The guards were stationed on a small set of stair leading to the outside.

Ezio punched out one of the guards before he could utter a word. Satisfied, he turned to see how Leonardo faired.

The guard spotted Leonardo and drew his rapier. "Stop!" he cried out, advancing. Leonardo immediately wheel backwards. The guard raised his weapon, ready to bring it down.

"LEO!" Ezio cried.

Making a mad dash, Leonardo lunged toward the guard, slipping underneath his upraised arm. His cape caught the guards foot, and the guard tumbled forward, losing his balance and flailing his arms desperately to grab hold of something. He pitched forward, falling down the small flight of stairs. He landed with a heavy thud at the bottom.

Ezio ran towards Leonardo, who was laying near the top of the stairs. "Leo...Leo, are you alright?" he asked, pulling him to his feet.

"Fft, did you _see _that!?" Leonardo laughed madly, clutching his side as the fits of giggles racked his body. "That was so unconventional!"

"Come on. We have to keep moving." Ezio pulled Leo behind him. In front of them was a wide courtyard. They were out in the open now. Beyond the courtyard was a busy market street bustling with shoppers.

"If we make it into the crowd we can escape," Leo said breathlessly.

"Ready?" Ezio asked

"No." Leonardo sighed.

They began to sprint the length of the courtyard. Within moment, the two heard a distant voice call out, "There they are! Stop them!"

Sentries mounted on the walls released their notched arrows. Ezio and Leonardo kept running for the crowd, feeling the wind of the deadly projectiles as they flew over their heads. As they neared the crowd, the people started to scatter, avoiding the criminals and the deathly hail of arrows that followed them.

They entered the street and pushed past the people, going farther and farther into the masses. The guards followed, but having more numbers made it difficult for them to enter into the crowd. As the people started to move in the opposite direction, so did they, blending into the surround area.

After making their way a few more blocks down the market, they stopped. The guards had lost sight of them and Ezio and Leonardo were safe for the time being.

"Alright, so where's the studio?"

Leo pointed south and Ezio let him take the lead. The sun was high in the sky, the heat beating down upon their shoulders. After a few blocks, Leo spotted a uniformed guard and turned into a shady side alley, leaving behind the bustling market, and navigated the twisted labyrinth of side streets with expertise.

After a good ten minutes of walking, they entered a small street. The shops were tucked away from the busy road it branched from. Leo stopped in front of a small wooden shack. The windows were covered in a film of dust and the shutters hung loose off their hinges. There were two wooden flower boxes beside the green, painted and peeling door that were choked with weeds and thorns. The place had obviously been uninhabited for a while.

Leonardo fished around in a pouch hanging from his side, pulling out a small, rusted brass key.

"Hope this works," He muttered as he unlocked the door. It opened with a bit of a push and they stepped inside. The place was rotting from the inside out and there was a strong smell of mould. The room was barren save for a table and three chairs that looked as rotten as the rest of the place. It was a one story building, but it had a nice hexagonal shaped room. Ezio could imagine how nice it must've looked as a studio when Leo was younger.

Leo shut the door behind him, a torrent of dust falling from the frame as he did so. Leonardo gasped and Ezio turned swiftly to see what was wrong. His eyes were fixated to the floor where a fresh bloodstain began soaking into the wood. His eyes followed the blood until he found the source.

"Ezio, your hurt!"

"What?" He looked down to his leg, he greaves nearly soaked with blood. He had forgotten about the wound, in fact, he barely even felt it.

"Here," Leo offered him a chair, "Let me fix that up." From his bag he pulled out a needle and spool. Threading the needle, he waited for Ezio to sit down.

"Do you even know how to stitch a wound?" Ezio asked, flinching away.

"I have an idea of how it works," Leo shrugged. Ezio got the mental image of Leonardo stitching a mini Mona Lisa into his leg.

"I think we should find a doctor instead."

"Nonsense! We'll make a bargain, because you made me carry around a weapon, which has ultimately scarred my conscience and will to live, you have to let me fix your leg up."

"I still think we should see a doc-"

"Sit down!" Leo pushed him into the chair. Ezio half expected the rotted wood to give way under the added weight, but it held. "And while I'm at it, you can tell me how you got yourself into this mess."

Ezio sighed, removing his boot and rolling up his pant leg. Perhaps it was better they stay hidden for now. The word of their escape would have circled the town by now. He unwound the filthy bandages from before and exposed the wound to fresh air. Leonardo inspected the deep gash.

"Now, tell me what's happening." he said as he set to work. The prick of the needle was painful, but not unbearable. Ezio spoke, wincing each time the needle re-entered his bruised skin.

"I was tipped off about a meeting near the city of Lucca, and I heard some disturbing news. Leo, you're not going to believe this but..."

"Believe what," he asked, thread hanging between his teeth.

"The Pazzi's are planning to murder the Medici brothers on Easter and take over Florence."

"What!?" Leonardo exclaimed, nearly dropping the needle.

"At the meeting there were six conspirators, three members of the Pazzi's, an Archbishop and two men I've not heard of. There names were Giovan and Silvano."

"Which Archbishop are you taking about?"

"Salviata."

"Salviata? Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, him, his nephew, and the Pope are all in on this." He heard Leonardo inhale sharply and start choking on the thread that he held between his teeth. He pounded his chest a few times to dislodge the foreign object.

"The Pope... and you mean THE POPE, is going to commit murder?"

"He won't actually be there, but from what I heard, he gave his blessing."

"Easter Sunday is tomorrow," Leonardo thought out loud, tying off the thread and breaking it."

"I know, that's why we need to get back to Florence as quick as possible and warn Lorenzo and Giuliano." Ezio said, standing. He examined Leonardo's handiwork, relieved that he hadn't been to extravagant with the stitching. His leg felt more stable and the pain had lessened considerably.

"Well, we don't have to worry about that then." Leo grumbled, putting away the needle and thread.

"What do you mean?" Ezio asked, confused at Leonardo's choice of words.

"I overheard some people talking in the prison. That brat, Viere, was throwing a tantrum because he was informed that Lorenzo left for business in the county earlier that morning. Lorenzo was planning on travelling to Rome during Easter. Veire had stationed people along the road he was to take, but Lorenzo never came. They aren't sure where he is."

That explained why Viere was so upset that morning, and who 'He' was. Ezio let out a sigh of relief, at least one of the brothers were safe and out of the way. Now, he just had to get to Giuliano.

Ezio started to make a move for the door, but Leonardo quickly stood in his way, throwing his arms up and blocking the way.

"What do you think your doing," Ezio growled. Leonardo didn't budge, his feet remained firmly planted on the ground.

"You can't honestly be thinking of going when there are guards crawling all over the place looking for us."

"This is not the time, I need to get back to Florence!"

"Ezio, you go out there now and you'll be caught within minutes. What are you planning to do, just leave the city? There are at least five guards stationed an every exit, and in your condition, you aren't ready to take on that challenge."

Leonardo had a point.

"I can't just let this happen Leo, if they found out that I withheld information like that I'd be hanged with the conspirators."

"Listen, if you leave at sunset, the guards will have left their posts for their evening rounds. We'll have plenty of time to get back to Florence before High Mass."

"We? Oh no, Leo, I can't have you involved with this."

"Why not?" Leo protested, hands resting on his hips.

"It's too dangerous! Viere's men with be everywhere in Florence, I have a feeling that there are more than just six conspirators. The break out you pulled today put yourself in a serious situation as it is. They will be looking for you as well, it's best if you layed low for a few days. I don't want anything happening to you."

"Don't use me as an excuse, I can look after myself," Leonardo shot back, sounding hurt and offended. A uneasy tension filled the small studio, each man trying to stare the other down. After a few moments Ezio sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Ezio, how long have you been my friend?" Leo asked, his voice taking a softer tone. "You should know by now that I won't let you go through this alone." He dared to flash a quick smile.

Ezio let his anger ebb away. Clasping his hand on Leo's shoulder, he shook him gently in a friendly manner.

"Fine." He gave in.

"Good, now sit down, we need work out a plan."

They both sat on the rickety old chairs, and pulled up to the table. From his bag, Leo withdrew a piece of parchment and writing utensil.

"If we have no interruptions, we should reach Florence by morning." Leonardo said as he drew out a path on the parchment, showing Ezio the exit they would take.

"Are we riding a lame horse?" On horseback, it would've taken only about 5 hours to reach the entrance of Florence, not the entire night.

"Unless you have one, we'll be walking. I came here a few days ago by coach, so I don't have a horse. And since I found you locked up in prison, I doubt you have one either. Besides, does anyone think about the poor beast. It'd be carrying two people for ..."

"Alright, so we're going by foot." Ezio interrupted him before he could go off into a rant about the horses feelings. Leonardo was very passionate about all life, to the extent of vegetarianism. If Leo could defend a pinecone's rights, he would.

"Don't worry, we'll get there in plenty of time." Leonardo reassured.

"We'll take the southern entrance to Florence, it's the closest to the Palazzo Medici."

Leo marked the drawing and wrote a few words beside it. His handwriting was strange to say the least. It curved and swirled oddly and he wrote the words backwards, so that they could only be read if one held a mirror to it. Ezio rolled his eyes at his enigmatic friend. Sometimes he truly did wonder about the artists mental state.

* * *

_In Florence:_

Two men sat in the lavished garden at a delicate iron-wrought table. The small patio was surrounded with native blossoming flowers that made the air thick with their distinctive scents, combining to fill the area with a musky perfume.

The men chatted idly, sipping wine and eating a small lunch. One man wore a black cassock with a white sash tied around his waist. A purple cap was placed neatly on his salt-and-pepper hair. As he raised the goblet to his lips, a stunning ring of amethysts flashed in the sunlight. However, compared to the man opposite from him, he may as well have been dressed in sackcloth.

"Lorenzo," he said, replacing his drink on the table, "I though you mentioned that you would be heading to Rome for Easter. What persuaded you to change your mind so suddenly?"

Lorenzo sat casually in his chair, and flashed a white smile. He certainly earned the name '_Lorenzo the Magnificent'_. He was a stunning young man to behold. His black hair was neatly clipped at the chin, framing his angular face. His dark brown eyes shone with life. He was dressed in a fine gold-coloured linen vest with a silk shirt underneath. His legs were crossed, revealing his knee high leather boots which displayed the finest embroidery one would ever see.

"Giuliano has hurt himself yet again, so I decided I would stay home for Easter and spent some time with my family." His smooth speech was like chocolate to the man's ears.

"Well, I am honoured I could experience your famous hospitality this afternoon," the man replied, taking another sip of wine.

"It is my pleasure, Archbishop Salviata, the Medici family and the Papal office have been in disagreement for quite a while. I'm glad we can finally heal the rift between us."

"Please, call me Salviata. I'm am also joyed that we can work out our differences." Salviata paused for a moment, preparing to spring the question. He began,

"A cardinal I know well would love to view your collection of art, he hasn't stopped talking about it for days now. I was wondering if you would like to show him some of the masterpieces you keep here."

"Certainly!" Lorenzo replied, jumping on the opportunity to strengthen the bonds between him and the church. " In fact, we can have another luncheon. I can invite the ambassador of Milan and Naples, and I know a few knights who'd love to come aswell."

Salviata hastily put down his cup. "That's quite the party, are you sure you don't want to keep it a little..smaller?"

"The more the merrier," Lorenzo replied, taking a swig of his drink.

"If it pleases you." Salviata ended. His brain was working feverishly. Assassinating Lorenzo would become much more difficult with more people around. He spilled out his last question.

"Where you planning on attending the vigil tomorrow?"

Lorenzo paused. "No, I wasn't."

"Then I would like to invite you to attend, Lorenzo. You and your brother. Seeing as the cardinal needs to be there anyways, perhaps we could walk back together after mass?"

"That sounds like a perfect idea." Lorenzo agreed, draining the contents of his cup.

_Oh yes_, Salviata thought to himself. _It was quite perfect indeed_.

* * *

Twilight had fallen over Vinci, and Ezio waited on the deserted street as Leonardo locked up the old studio. There was a sad look in his eyes, as if he was saying farewell to an old friend. Pulling his cape closer around his shoulders to keep out the cooling, night air, they began to walk silently toward the gates.

The night life of Vinci was already starting to come alive. Lanterns along the streets were lit, giving a festive glow to the path they walked. In the distance they could hear the soft music of a fiddle, and laughter inside of taverns. Candles illuminated the windows of several dwellings and children were being called to bed.

The darker side of the night soon began to creep out of the glowing city. More than once Ezio spotted a shadow flitting out of sight in the alleyways. They crossed paths with women wearing scandalous dresses who called them as they walked past. Groups of young men huddled together in corners, shooting quick glances before turning away.

As they neared the gate, they slowed, looking for any guards making their night patrol. Each time they spotted one, they ducked into an alley and waited for the guard to pass.

They were close to the gates now and proceeded with extreme caution. Leonardo moved forward to see if there were any guards who hadn't left their posts. Ezio watched a Leonardo returned, and immediately knew something was not right.

"There are still sentries standing there." Leo hissed under his breath.

"How many?"

"Four."

"Damn."

"Any ideas?"

Ezio leaned back against a wall, pondering. There were too many for him and Leonardo to take on at once. They needed more men. Then an interesting thought hit Ezio.

Or more _women._

"Stay here, I'll be right back." Ezio whispered, Leonardo nodded and crouched down.

Ezio returned a short while later. Leonardo's jaw hung loose as he was flanked by a multitude of women in heavy makeup.

"What are you doing!? There's no time for this!" Leonardo whispered frantically. One of the young beauties sauntered over to him, squatting down to his level.

"Oh Ezio," she said in wooed voice, "where did you find him? He's adorable!" She scratched underneath his whiskered chin, and Leonardo panicked and pushed her away.

"Is he a virgin? He seems scared." she asked, tilting her head at Leo's strange behaviour. "I could show him the ropes."

"Uhm.. Ah.. No thank you..." Leo stammered, giving short shaky laughs. "I'm... not... into... uh...girls..."

"What?" The prostitute seemed confused. Then she realised the meaning of his words. "Oh," she remarked, a deep blush spreading across her face. She got up and rejoined the rest of the ladies. Ezio could only grin.

"As much as my friend would_ love_ the pleasure of a woman's flesh, I know a few men who would love it more." Ezio chuckled, pointing out the four guards. The prostitutes quickly scampered into action, swinging their round hips as they entered into the guards sights.

Soon, the cats were calling and the eyelashes batted like there was no tomorrow. While the sentries were preoccupied with the girls, Ezio and Leo slipped past unnoticed.

"That is so wrong," Leonardo sighed, the glow of the city on his back.

"Welcome to life, my friend, welcome to life."

**End of Day Two**


End file.
